


The Empty Sound of the Dial Tone

by starry_nights88



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, M/M, post - City of Lost Souls, post - break up, so sorry for the angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-19
Updated: 2012-10-19
Packaged: 2017-11-16 14:40:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starry_nights88/pseuds/starry_nights88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even with his phone destoryed, Alec knows that all hope isn't lost. He's got one last chance to make things right. If only Magnus would pick up the phone...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Empty Sound of the Dial Tone

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mavklquFY41qadup7o1_500.gif) image. Found on tumblr.

  
_Alec looked down at the shattered pieces in disbelief. “You BROKE my PHONE.”_

_Jace shrugged. “Guys don’t let other guys keep calling other guys. Okay, that came out wrong. Friends don’t let friends keep calling their exes and hanging up. Seriously. You have to stop.”_

_Alec looked furious. “So you broke my brand new phone? Thanks a lot.”_

_Jace smiled serenely and lay back on the grass. “You’re welcome.”_

**Snippet from The Mortal Instruments: City of Heavenly Fire, Cassandra Clare**

\- - -

He left the Institute with its shadow looming behind him like a dark cloud as he turned onto the sidewalk, following it down the street as he weaved his way through the throng of bustling people and never had Alec felt more alone than in that moment. He was surrounded by people and, yet, felt disconnected from it all. He was numb as he continued walking. He shoved his hands into his pockets; one clenched into a fist and the other fingered the change he had grabbed from his sister's wardrobe earlier in the day before his fingers curled around the quarters, pressing them against his sweaty palm.

He walked as though he had no particular destination in mind, like he was just wandering aimlessly, but that aimless wandering found him at a payphone – brightly lit in the darkness and almost completely empty, save for the people that waited just a few feet away from it at the bus stop. He ignored them as he approached the payphone and they ignored him (as most New Yorkers do) as he pulled his fists out of his pockets and uncurled the one that held the change. His hand was sticky with blood, the coins having left behind red impressions of their shape where they were pressed so tightly against his skin from his grip and, just below those marks, were little half-moon shaped indents that were sluggishly bleeding.

Alec stared at the money in his hand, considering what he was about to do for what felt like the hundredth time this evening. He knew Jace destroyed his phone for a reason and it was a reason that Alec could respect, that is, if he wasn't so damned desperate to talk to Magnus. A heavy, determined sigh left Alec as he stepped into the booth and reached for the receiver. He cradled it between his shoulder and chin as he shifted the coins around in his palm, feeding them to the payphone one-by-one so he could make his call.

Then, with the dial tone in his ear, he lifted his hand to the number pad and keyed in Magnus' number with a shaking hand. He waited with bated breath, unable to hear the ringing past his pulse pounding in his ears. He knew, he just _knew_ that Magnus would pick up. He had to. The call wouldn't come up as Alec's number and, for all Magnus knew, it could be a client trying to get a hold of him. But, the phone rang and rang before finally kicking over to the voice mail.

His grip tightened on the receiver until his knuckles were white. His entire body shook with anger, with hurt and something—he didn't know what—simply snapped inside of him. A strangled sob left his throat as thick, hot tears slid down his cheeks. "You can't do this to me," he said, his voice trembling with emotion, with all of the pain he felt within that moment. "You can't _ignore_ me like this," he continued, his voice breaking halfway through the sentence and another sob left him as more tears fell. "You can't just _throw_ me away!" He cried, wrecked, as his voice and heart broke all over again.

With a cry, an absolutely wretched sound, he stepped away from the booth and threw the receiver at the payphone. Unaware of the audience he had gained with his display as his hands went to his head, his fingers burying into his dark, messy hair before tugging, pulling at the locks. He cried and cried, his knees weak as everything— _everything_ was ripped out from beneath him. His world, as well as his heart, was shattered. He sank to the ground next to the booth, curling into himself as he cried while everyone shuffled nervously around him; too shocked to move, neither helping nor sparing Alec while he was trapped in the throes of his grief. Nothing, _nothing_ had ever hurt so much.


End file.
